In the corridor, chanting Adam's nickname, stood a tall dark man wearing Army fatigues and a bold grin. Adam pushed the chair toward him.

"Shit, Luke, what are you doing here?" Adam's face split into a wide grin. The man strode in, grabbed Adam's hand in a thumbs-up grip and hugged him with the other arm.

"Got home yesterday, man. Had to come see you." The smile faded a bit as Luke scanned Adam's leg but he quickly wound it up again with a taunt. "I expected to find you missing a leg but instead, you're relaxing in a chair with a pretty girl at your side."

"Nope, I got to keep my leg." Still smiling, Adam introduced us. "And the pretty girl is Eden Leighton. Eden, this is Army Specialist Luciano Santoro, better known as Luke."

I extended a bandaged hand and he hesitated for a second. "Just don't squeeze. I'll be fine."

He nodded and smiled. I liked him immediately. "Nice to meet you. So, has Ollie shown you his scars yet?"

Adam's hand shot out, struck Luke's shoulder. "Watch it, man."

Luke held up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, sorry. You know I love you, man."

Adam scoffed. "Love? Is that why you put sand in my shorts and pissed in my canteen?"

With a shrug and a wicked smile, Luke shook his head. "That wasn't me. You have other…admirers."

"Great." Adam rolled his eyes.

Luke turned to me. "Ollie makes friends wherever he goes."

I looked at him sideways. "Really."

Luke burst into laughter. "Oh, she knows you already."

Adam flipped him the bird but Luke laughed harder. "We been at this since basic training. What was that – like two years ago?"

Adam nodded. "Feels like yesterday." He leaned forward in his chair. "How is everybody? Did Finn figure out who swiped his books?"

Luke laughed. "Finneran's an ass."

I took that as my cue to say goodnight and leave the boys to their stories. I stood up.

"Hey, where you going, princess?"

"I thought I'd leave you guys to get caught up."

"No, no, you have to stay and hear this story." Adam held out his hand.

I stared at his hand for a moment and then smiled for real, and took it. Adam's eyes went round and I heard his faint gasp before Luke coughed once. Adam cleared his throat and dropped my hand.

I stayed for a while longer and learned Adam has a wicked sense of humor, is devoted to his Army brothers – and sisters – there were two women in his squad. Better, they are devoted to him, and sent Luke with messages wishing Adam luck in his hearing.

"What hearing?" I asked.

Adam's body went rigid and the light left his eyes. "Forget it. It… it doesn't matter." He waved his hand and Luke sucked in air.

"The hell it don't."

"Luke, just… just leave it alone."

Luke opened his mouth to argue, but a single glance from Adam silenced him. I stared, noting his posture, the pulse throbbing at his temple, the way his hands twitched, the eyes that would not meet mine. Ranger's words rang in my ears. That's when I knew Adam Olinek wasn't just uncomfortable.

He was downright scared.

"Visiting hours are over." One of the night nurses stood in the corridor. Luke nodded, stood up. "Eden, it was great to meet you."

I nodded and smiled.

"Ollie, man, you call me, you hear? Any time, I'll be here. Hoo-ah."

"Hoo-ah." Adam repeated, giving him another one arm hug with a few slaps on the back.

We were alone.

Tension breathed around us, crackling and snapping. Finally, I broke first. "Adam, what-"

"Eden." His gaze snapped to me, hostile and intimidating. "Let it go. It's Army stuff, stuff you wouldn't understand."

My mouth tightened. "I just kicked your ass in Jeopardy. You really think I can't understand the word hearing means you're under investigation?" 

He met my outraged glare without flinching. “It’s complicated.”

“You’re unbelievable.” I moved past him, but he shot out an arm to stop me.

“Funny, that’s what I was thinking about you.” He said.

“Me? Why am I unbelievable? Because I can see your pain and want to help? But you don’t need anybody's help.” I thrust my arms out wide, gasping at the pain. Damn it! I had to gulp back a sudden rush of tears.

Adam's eyes softened and he sucked in a breath. When he spoke, his voice no longer cut me. “You're flushed. Is your fever back?”

I’d been running the low-grade fever all day. “What do you care?"

"Been asking myself that same question." He muttered under his breath, but I heard it.

"Go to hell." I tried to shove past him, but he grabbed my hand almost hard enough to hurt.

"Wait." Adam set the brakes on his wheelchair, moved the footrests and climbed slowly to his feet. Or, foot, actually. My breath caught and I stared at him in disbelief. He was quite tall with broad shoulders and hard lines. Instinctively, I raised my arms to brace him, but when he glared at me, I forced them to lower. Slowly, he raised a hand to my face, gently touched the still-raw skin on my throat. His thumb skimmed my lower lip. I was mad, but forgot why when a hot little shiver danced along my nerves. The muscles in my belly contracted in a sensation that, for once, wasn’t pain.

“I care." He murmured. "Not that that's worth anything." He dropped his hand and the spell was broken. "You know, you’re not at all what I expected.”

Annoyance prickled my skin. “Let me guess. You thought I always strut around in stage make-up, big hair, six-inch heels and boas, like one of my photo spreads?”

His lips curled into the familiar smirk. “Okay, first, the only boas I know are snakes and something tells me that’s not what you’re talking about. And second, I just meant you’re somebody real.”

My eyes narrowed to slits. “Gee, you think?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. But this hearing crap is my problem. You have enough of your own. Good night.”

He lowered his hand, grasped the sides of the wheelchair and settled himself down with no help from me. I turned, dragged my IV pole into my room and closed the door, trying to remember how to breathe.

The car inches along the Long Island Expressway. It's already dark and I am very late. I text Ashley and Belinda, explaining we're stuck in traffic. Only Ashley replies. I beg Maddie to drop me off directly at Matt Lambert's house, instead of stopping home first.

Maddie scolds me for much of the unbearably long ride home. I didn't take direction. I acted sullen. I was rude. I was unprofessional and ungrateful. I ignore her, too busy scraping off the layers of make-up with a package of wipes Maddie always carried. I text Belinda again. Still no reply. I scrape a brush through my hair, ungluing all the gel, mousse and spray, and coil it into a knot fastened with a band.

It's late when the limo pulls up in front of Matt's house. I could hear the music from the street.

"No drinking, Eden." Maddie warns me for the millionth time, but I have a feeling she cares more about the calories and bloating than about the dangers of teenage intoxication. I sigh in relief when the car pulls away. I head up the walk, knock on the door, smoothing my hands over the red sweater I'd pulled on that morning.

Freedom!

For a few hours, at least.

The door opens and Matt kisses my cheek, takes my hand. Belinda is in the living room, a beer in her hand.

She sees me and I wave with a cheesy grin. I'm so happy to see her.

But she's not happy to see me.

Not happy at all.

***

I snap awake, panting and gasping. The only time I heard from Belinda was in my dreams. The days had passed slowly. It was Saturday and I was fever-free. I'd hung out with Sam as much as I could and avoided Adam. Or maybe, Adam was avoiding me. The nights were even longer. When I actually did sleep, dreams of Belinda's accident replayed in an endless loop, relieved only by dreams of Adam scowling at me. 

Dr. Nielsen said I could go home and promised to remove the IV. I badly wanted a shower, but raising my arms long enough to wash my hair was still not something I could manage just yet. My hair hung in dirty, lifeless strands down my back so greasy, it looked wet. There was a part of me so deeply conditioned to loathe it like this, I barely resisted the urge to bribe the next nurse I saw to wash it for me.

I managed to coil my hair into a messy knot on top of my head, shuffled to the bathroom trailing my IV pole and didn’t even bother glancing at the mirror above the sink. I turned my attention to my future. I hadn't applied to any colleges even though graduation was less than four months away because we'd planned to take a year off for the pageant.

Or rather, Maddie planned. I just followed along.

Voices in my room caught my attention. I dried my hands, opened the bathroom door and found Maddie in my room talking to Dr. Nielsen, the doctor in charge of my case.

“There you are.” She said as if she’d spent hours combing the building for me. “Dr. Nielsen has some news for you.”

I pushed the IV pole ahead of me and sat on my bed. With luck, he was here to unplug the damn thing from my vein. Dr. Nielsen was about fifty, had a head full of messy gray hair and liked to look at you over the pair of reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. He was tall and broad and never walked through the hospital corridors, he strode.

He also had a bizarre crush on Maddie.

Since he was peering closely at the forms stuck inside the metal chart holder, I got comfortable. Or tried to, at least.

I glanced at my mother. She stared at my dirty hair, her mouth pressed into a tight line.

Suddenly, she was the one with the stringy hair, arms wrapped around her middle as she rocked in the corner of the bathroom. Everyone leaves me. Don't leave me, Eden.

I blinked when Dr. Nielsen cleared his throat. “Well, Eden, I think we have some good news for you.” He paused, looked to my mother for confirmation and proceeded when she nodded. “There are a few therapies available that can practically eliminate the scarring we usually see in burns like yours. We’ve already tried dermabrasion and removed most of the eschar you came in with.”

What an ugly word – eschar. I shuddered.

“We could try dermaplaning but I’m not sure we can do it in time to meet your pageant goals.”

“What is it?”

“It’s typically a cosmetic procedure that helps reduce the appearance of fine wrinkles. We use a device called a dermatone and remove layers of skin. In your case, we’d be using something larger to plane off entire sheets of the damaged skin from your arms and shoulders.”

I frowned, trying to understand how this was different from what they were already doing.

“Eden, stop that. You’re wrinkling.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Dr. Nielsen, isn’t this what you’re already doing with the whirlpools and debridement?”

He nodded. “Yes, but on a larger scale.”

I really didn’t like the sound of this. “But you say we don’t have enough time.”

“Yes. So, if you’re willing, I’d like to try an experimental surgical technique on your arms and shoulders. It would…”

I tuned out after that. I really didn’t like the idea of experimenting especially with skin. I knew too well how painful a burn was.

“Eden, you’re not listening.” Maddie touched my knee and I jerked.

“Uh, sorry. No.”

Dr. Nielsen peered over his glasses at me. “Eden, it’s simple. We take some stem cells, grow you some new skin and graft it over your injured sites. It would require a few surgeries, and more recovery time, but in the long run…”

Say it. Say it now. A rushing sound in my head grew louder. I think it was a lifetime of resentment but I still couldn't squeeze out the words.

"I'll make the necessary arrangements, Ms. Leighton. It'll be an in-patient procedure, but no more than two days' stay, if all goes well."

Maddie nodded, pleased.

"I don't want to." My voice was small and squeaky, but I'd done it! I'd said no. I shook my head. "No. No, I don't want to."

"What?" Maddie looked horrified. 

"I can't. I can't take any more pain. I'm sorry, Maddie."

I stood up, pushed the IV pole to the door and headed for Ranger's treatment center, punching the elevator call button with almost no pain in my fingers. I paused for the briefest of internal celebrations.

Grafts. Surgeries – plural. Recovery. Pain. Pain. PAIN. It was like… like I was a sick project now. I wasn't the perfect little girl she'd given birth to and she would spend the rest of her life trying to fix me.

"Hi, Eden."

I whirled around, found Barbara holding an enormous Teddy bear. "You got another gift from A Fan."

I frowned at the card she waved at me. I will survive. I'll stay alive. For you.

Eww. I tore the card into pieces. "Just… give the bear to Sam, see if he likes it."

"Eden." Maddie's heels clicked on the floor behind me. "Eden, darling, you're being very rude."

An irrational urge to giggle hit me.

"I only want what's best for you-"

"Subjecting me to more pain, to treatment that isn't guaranteed to work – that's what's best for me?" The urge to giggle was gone – replaced by a simmering anger. "Mom, you need to face it. I can never be fixed. This is it." I held up my bandaged arms. "As good as it gets."

Maddie's mouth fell open and she shook her head. "No! No, baby. Don't say that."

The elevator opened and I rushed in. When Maddie tried to follow, I put up my hand. "You're not allowed in the treatment room, remember?"

She pressed a hand to her open mouth, but took a step backwards with a stiff nod. Her enormous blue eyes – artfully made up – reflected nothing but horror. The doors slid shut but a hand suddenly blocked them.

When they reopened, Adam pushed his chair into the lift, turned, and faced forward. I pressed the button for Ranger's floor, saying nothing. The elevator hummed and Adam cleared his throat. "Princess, you're not unfixable. You'll heal. You can get the grafts. I did. It's not that bad."

My eyes slipped closed. "I don't. Want. Them." I pushed out through clenched teeth.

"So, what are you saying? You want to stay like this?" 

I whirled on him. "What's wrong with being like this?" I held up my bandaged arms. "Am I so hideous, I should be hidden under veils or put in some institution for the rest of my life? They're scars. I'm still me inside. My brain still works. I have all four limbs." I flapped my bandaged arms around like a deranged flightless bird. "I am not USELESS. Why do people not see that? And stop CALLING ME PRINCESS." I finished on a high-pitched shriek, popping the P and spraying spit.

Adam stared at me, open-mouthed, hands up. "Eden."

Just the sound of my name from his lips and I deflated like an old balloon.

"I see you. For the record, I don't think you're useless or hideous. I like what I see."

The doors slid open and Adam pushed his chair out without waiting for me, which was good since I'd just melted into a puddle.

"Oh, a two-for," Ranger grinned when I stepped into the treatment room behind Adam.

"Ollie, head to the tub, Eden, you're on the table."

I sat on the table and watched while Adam levered himself from chair to tub, biceps flexing. My mouth went dry. He caught me staring and grinned, waving two fingers under his eyes like he did the first day we met. Ranger peeled off the dressings on his legs, prodded the skin and Adam gripped the sides of the tub, his jaw clenched.

My leg throbbed in sympathy.

"Okay, sugar, your turn." He glanced at the computer on the desk near the wall, stripping off his gloves. "No more fever, that's good news. Nancy's gonna stretch you today." Ranger jogged over to me, grabbed a fresh pair of gloves. "After that, I'll fit you for pressure dressings. First things first. You won't be needing this anymore." He bent, disconnected the tubing that chained me to the IV pole. "Little pinch." And finally – finally – pulled out the port that had been stuck in my vein for days.

A little antiseptic and a bandage and it was done. I did a little happy dance.

Inside.

"So, um, Eden," Ranger stammered. I looked at him in alarm. "Do you, um, you know, mind that I call you sugar?"

"No!" I assured him. "I like it." Why would I mind that?

Ranger grinned. "Good. Me, too." He opened a drawer, took out some bottles and tubes, put them on the counter beside the vinyl covered table where I sat.

And then, I groaned. "Oh, no. You heard me?"

"Um. Yeah."

"Ranger, when Adam calls me princess, it's… well, it's insulting and patronizing. When you call me sugar, it's not."

"Okay. Good. But you'll tell me if I say or do something wrong?"

I nodded. "Of course."

His grin was relieved. "Good. I'll be back in fifteen. I'm gonna go make Ollie scream now." A quick glance at Ranger's face told me he wasn't joking. He strode across the room, drew the curtain around Adam's tub.

"Hi, Eden." Nancy squirted some antibacterial gel on her hands, covered them with gloves. "Ranger wants me to show you some stretches. Can you hold up your arms for me, as high as you can?"

While I grunted and cursed my arms away from my body, Adam grunted and cursed his way through the whirlpool. Nancy had me lie on my front on the table and gently stretched one arm out and up and then, the other arm, keeping up a steady conversation in the process.

"So, you're graduating this year? That's cool. What are your college plans?"

"I'm thinking of med school."

"Really? Good for you. Ranger says you were awesome with Sam. You know, you could consider nursing school, too. We're more hands-on than doctors when it comes to patient care."

Nursing school? I hadn't considered that. It was less school – always a good thing – which means I'd get to start working a lot sooner. I like it.

"You're smiling. Does that mean you like the idea or your shoulders don't hurt?"

"Oh, it hurts! Trust me. I just… I really like the idea of helping people. How long does nursing school take?"

Nancy shrugged. "That depends on your specialty. The community colleges have programs that get you to R.N. in two years. But if you want to be able to manage a department some day, like Ranger, you'll need a master's degree."

Master's degree? I could do that. "What subjects do I need to study?"

She lauged. "Biology, obviously. Lots and lots of biology."

I hadn't taken a bio course since my second year of high school. We had to dissect a pig. It wasn't as bad as I expected. "I can do that."

"Tell you what." Nancy said, pushing my arm up over my head as I gasped from the pain. "I'll put some information together for you so you can decide. I think you'd make a great nurse."

"Nurse? You want to be a nurse?" Ranger's voice, shocked with joy, made me open my eyes. "I got this, Nancy."

I struggled on to my back. "Nancy and I were just talking about that. I think it might be something I'd like."

"Oh, sugar, I think Nancy's right. You'd be great."

I beamed.

Thirty minutes later, a little worse for wear, I left Ranger's burn unit for the last time as an in-patient, clutching a thick envelope of nursing school brochures and forms for the program affiliated with the hospital. I was also wearing the ugliest set of bandages I'd ever seen. Pressure dressings, Ranger called them. Three separate pieces. One for each arm, plus one over my shoulders, kind of like a vest. They were beige, tight, hot, and itchy. They were the most unglamorous things I'd ever had to wear.

For that reason alone, I loved them.

I headed back to my room, tugged on sweat pants for the first time in a week. Without the IV in my foot, I was no longer restricted. Restless and bored, I wandered out to the corridor, staring at the door to Adam’s room, trying to ignore the way my heart fluttered. Even though I knew he was still with Ranger, I headed in the opposite direction, toward the elevators. I pressed the button for the lobby and wandered around the gift store for all of five minutes, then checked out the cafeteria. My mouth watered when I saw vending machines. Why had I never walked this far before?

On a table littered with food wrappers, someone left a newspaper. I snagged it and sat at a clean table, careful not to lean back against the chair, idly turned pages, and was soon absorbed in old news.

“Well, well, look who left the nest.”

My eyes snapped up and my stomach flipped. Adam's face was drawn and tight but when I saw the trademark smirk, I frowned at the newspaper.

“You know that’s yesterday’s news, right?”

I looked up, blinked wide eyes a few times for effect and said, “Oh. I thought it was tomorrow’s news.” And then, I threw in an insipid giggle.

Adam’s eyes narrowed. Before he could start in on me again, I shoved my chair back and strode away, hoping I walked faster than he could propel his chair.

I waved at him with a snarky smile when the elevator doors slid shut before he’d reached me. I punched the button for my floor and did some breathing exercises to slow down my pulse. What the hell was with this guy? Why did he go out of his way to upset me? Better question, why did I let him?

I wandered down to the waiting room, hoping to find Sam but the room was empty. Sam’s beads sat in the corner. They looked lonely, so I sat down on the floor and flicked a bright green bead across its track, watched it fall with a satisfying click. I rubbed at the itchy patch of skin that rode my jaw.

“Don’t pick.”

My eyes snapped to Adam, pushing his chair into the room. He wore a torn t-shirt and basketball shorts and smelled like cigarettes. His injured leg was swathed in bandages dotted red where the wounds drained. His other leg was also still bandaged, but not as thickly.

“What’s the matter, princess? Peasants revolting or something?”

My lips twitched but I refused to laugh for him. He was rude and deliberately mean to me all the time so why did my pulse throb whenever I saw him? I wanted to make some witty retort but was afraid I’d burst into tears if I opened my mouth. I ignored him, but he didn’t take the hint. He wheeled himself beside me.

“Look, the newspaper thing was a bad dumb blonde joke and I’m sorry. You still running a fever?”

I shook my head, not meeting his eyes.

“So, who’s the bombshell with you before? Sister?”

I snorted. That’s exactly what Maddie hoped for. “Mother.”

A low whistle was Adam’s reply. “Hot.”

I stared at him, my eyebrows arched. What’s the protocol for someone telling you how hot your mother is? Are you supposed to say thank you, like the credit is somehow yours? Or are you supposed to just nod like you agree even though you know your mother works overtime to produce exactly this effect?

My phone, tucked into the waistband of my sweat pants, buzzed in time to interrupt my internal etiquette debate. I glanced at the caller ID. “Logan. Hey.” I had the phone open before the second buzz.

“Eden.” Silence. “I was going to uh, you know, call you.”

Sure. “When?”

“I don’t know. When you got home.”

Whatever. “Logan, it’s fine. I’m up, walking around. It’s not that bad. Really.”

“Good. That’s um, good. But-“

Here it comes. “But what.”

“I don’t think-“ he broke off, sighed.

“Just say it.” I prodded.

“Okay. It’s just you have a lot going on now and I, you know…figured you’ll need some time to heal and stuff, so I… uh...”

My teeth clenched. “I get it. It’s… it’s fine. I’ll see you around.”

“Um, yeah. See you around.” He hung up before I even said good-bye.

I closed my cell, furious that Adam hung on every word.

“Boyfriend?”

Not really. Logan was just a guy who’d finally asked me out. I don’t get asked out very often. Offers to hook up, all the time. But asked out? I could count those on one hand. “Not now. Just… a guy breaking a date.” My lungs burned. 

“Ouch.”

I tried to laugh, despite the lump choking me. “You think?” And my voice cracked and then I was crying. His touch on my leg quieted me.

“Hey. I’m sorry. Come on, shh. Don’t waste tears on an asshole.”

Through my tears, I huffed out a laugh at the irony of that statement.

He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He slouched in his chair, trying to catch my eye. “So, how are you feeling?”

My eyebrows shot up again. Adam Olinek expressing interest in how someone is doing?

His lips twitched. “Okay, okay. Look. I’m really a nice guy. Ask anyone. Except my sister. Or Ranger. Or that other nurse.”

I laughed again.

“Seriously, why are you crying? I hope it's not because of what I said before. You're still gorgeous."

"Wow. A compliment." I looked behind him. "And, no gun to your head. Impressive."

He shrugged. "I just figured you must get tired of hearing it."

My eyes snapped to his. "Actually, I kinda do. I know that sounds really stuck up, but-"

He waved a hand. "It's the truth. I like when you're honest."

With a snort, I nodded. "I like when you're honest, too, instead of deliberately provoking me."

His grin turned wicked. "You're a lot more honest when I do that."

Speechless, I gaped. A quick buzz through our conversations showed me I was anything but honest. "I'm not… I'm not really a dumb blonde."

His eyebrow arched. "Princess, that's obvious."

I was totally confused. "Then why do you keep taunting me like that?"

"Because I love seeing your eyes get hot."

Hot? My mouth went dry. I ran my tongue over my lips for some relief. Adam's eyes watched, dark and interested and his lips curled into the sexiest of smiles. "Why don't you sit on my lap? I bet I can make them hotter."

Sit on his- Whoa. The muscles in my core clenched by themselves. I shut my eyes, drew in a deep breath, swayed slightly.

"Eden, you okay?"

When I opened my eyes, I found his trademark smirk back in place.

"I’m good." I lied and held out a foot. “See? No more IV. They're setting me loose today."

His smile faded. "Oh.

"'Oh?' What, you’re disappointed?'

He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess I am.” And then he grinned. “You’re ugly, but you grow on a guy.”

I blinked. Was I really ugly now? Maddie was horrified, Ashley a little too stoked, and Logan totally flaked out – is that what they all thought?

“Oh, my God, will you relax? You know you’re the furthest thing from ugly there is. You really need me to barrage you with compliments? How could you not know that was a joke?”

Right. I should have known. If he wasn’t being deliberately insulting, he would be joking. “I didn't expect it to be so hard, you know? I hated modeling and pageants. Couldn't wait to stop. And now that I can – now that I have to – it's…"

His dark eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “Do you actually believe you’re ugly now? Is that what’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “I think I’m pretty effing lucky.”

He grinned. “Did you really just say effing?”

“You know what I mean.” I tossed his own line back at him.

“Sorry, go on.”

“I don’t think the burns are that bad, but everyone else seems to.”

“Who, everyone – this guy, Logan? He hasn’t even been to visit you. He’s freaked out. I don’t think he counts.”

“My mother can’t bear to look at me. She’s scheduling appointments with specialists in grafting and reconstructive surgeries. And then there’s Ashley. I keep getting the feeling that she's actually happy the field was leveled a little. And let’s not forget Belinda.”

“Belinda?”

Suddenly, I was fuming instead of crying. I jumped up, paced. “It’s her fault I’m even here. I pulled her ass out of her burning car because she was dumb enough to drink and drive. She hasn’t seen or spoken to me since and I wasn’t even in the damn car!”

Adam’s hand flew up. “Wait a minute. You weren’t in the car, yet risked yourself to save a friend who was?”

I sighed. “Look, everyone I know has already told me how stupid it was to walk into fire but I couldn’t just let her go. So do me a favor. If you’re gonna tell me it was dumb, stupid, risky, whatever, just skip it. I already know.” 

Adam’s jaw tightened. He removed his hand, gripped the wheels of his chair. “They should be handing out the meal trays by now,” he tone was flat. “Guess we’ve both had a hell of a day.” He turned the chair around, propelled it out.

I stared after him for a long moment, agape. I guess it was unanimous. Everyone I know thought I was a moron.